The Howling
by Reige
Summary: REWRITTEN! Through his long life, Logan had thought he was the man with the beast inside him, but after meeting Gabriel does he truly see the monster within... Van Helsing x Wade Wilson, Wolverine x Van Helsing, Sabertooth x Van Helsing!
1. In the Beginning

**A/N: **A rewritten version of the original Howling script. It's been a while but I want to make something bigger, better, and sensual than the last one because obviously there was no way around the damn fic and I have to try a different approach to this. I know you guys will hate me for this but you'll also love me for doing you all a big favor in making a new version of The Howling. I promise you the hook up will come and you guys will be drooling at the end of it. Now enjoy chapter and remember to review this afterwards!

**p.s. **God I suck bad in History, PM me if you guys see something wrong.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Marvel's X-MEN or Universal Studios Van Helsing characters, just the plot!

* * *

**1916, Warsaw, Poland**

Bombs from above shook the earth that the soldiers burrowed deep inside for cover against the hailstorm of bullets and mustard gas, people shaken of the nerve-wracking thought that they'd blow up any second now. The world lit up in fire and searchlights, only few brave enough to venture on the surface of the battleground.

But some had bigger fish to fry down below.

"Tell me again," he huffed out a circle of thick smoke from his mouth as he turned to the captain of the small troupe. "why we're here?"

Captain Leonard Hillard, 38 years of age and serving from the British Empire for his Majesty and allies paused in the refill of his rifle to look up at the best candidates in their dare devil missions that the Americans had to offer; Victor Creed and James "Logan" Howlett.

The mean-looking older brother was good to intimidate soldiers with his large size and the ungodly awful_ long_ razor-sharp nails that was dirtied from digging into blood and meat. Something Captain Hillard was glad not to be on the other side of. And the younger brother is the more calmer but just-as-crazy of the two. Said younger brother chewing on a cheap cigar he found from one of their underground successful ambushes against the Germans.

"Several hours ago, Richard received a report from base camp," Hillard locked and loaded the rifle. "One of our code breakers got Intel; the Germans have something that they needed to be delivered back to Germany ASAP."

"Some weapons? This ain't nothing new." Victor scoffed from his place at leaning against the dirty pillars that stabilized the burrow.

"The group moves with every chance they can,"

Zeppelins floating above the sky with bombs falling down on the city, machine guns perched almost everywhere for opportunities to take out any incoming enemies, tanks and mines shaking the world with death.

"They're in a hurry." Logan said.

"And whatever they have..." Hillard trails off.

"It's something important that they want to get back home quick."

Whatever they have, Hillard and his small company had to make haste in catching up with the opposing force for whatever valuable that the Germans are risking to be running on the dangerous surface to secure it and most likely send it back to HQ.

"Lets move, gentlemen!" Hillard commanded, getting up to his feet with his pack secured and rifle slung over his shoulder.

And all followed their captain up to the battlefield, the two brothers lagging behind with intent on killing whoever crossed their paths.

**-o-o-o-**

"We're closing in on a platoon, cap'n."

No one really questioned how the two brothers know that they were getting close to a group they couldn't even see, because it always turned out true when they finally got to the viewing where they actually saw what they were up against. A good reason especially since they also know where any snipers or enemy burrows were located for all of them to avoid, the military truly was happy to have these two to help in the service.

And sure enough as they crawled their way up a hill the men saw a group of men that was definitely not of their side, an armored vehicle in the middle of the whole group that carried what Hillard and his men have come for.

"What now?" Orville, the smallest of the whole group, asks as everyone ducked down. "Blow these krauts sky high?"

"You'd be blowin' up whatever they have, ya moron." Victor sneered down at the flustered little man.

"Orders, sir?"

Hillard took a quick look around and turned to another soldier of high rank, Gilbert Pedenski. "Take half the men with you and move on

up the front."

"I should probably go on ahead, then." Logan suggested, his cigar missing from his mouth, probably dropped it.

"Yes," Hillard nodded. "Mr. Creed will be the heavy hitter on the back, you and your group hit them up front. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," all soldiers replied.

"God be with you men."

"Lets hit 'em where it hurts, Jimmy." Victor grinned, the fire from around them illuminating his fangs.

* * *

Men as beasts, and Beasts as men.

The sound of war echoed around, it was familiar and foreign all the same to him. The smell of death and fire, the feel of heat and destruction, and the air taste nothing but dryness and dirt.

The machine moved on, carrying him to wherever they wanted him to be. They didn't look normal, the people that captured and contained him, but they are men none the less that have seen his true and ugly face and wanted nothing more than his power. Wanted to give him to the man they called their king, their Kaiser who wanted him. Who would want this sort of power? This power that was death in the form of a beast that ran and hunted in the night like a Lord of the Woods and Moon.

This wasn't power, this was a thing called a curse.

The shackles and chains wrapped around him like serpents and burned into his skin roughly, making him bleed away. He remained bolted to the floor of the moving machine that the men have put him in and his head obscured by a mask that muzzled him completely and locked tightly around his neck like a collar. An insurance for him not to bite someone's throat out and let them bleed themselves to death. The bullets pelted into his flesh didn't do much, but it was enough to tie him down while his body healed.

How did he come to be like this?

He was suppose to die, he welcomed death like a mother with her cold arms open for an embrace to take her child into eternal slumber and yet he awoken to this world not of his own.

A cry of alarm came to his sensitive ears, easily interpreting the language that there is an ambush. He took in the scent of the foreign group that attacked from behind and front on the well-guarded group. Bodies falling and dwindling down until there be none left but himself. He pulled at his restraints, uncaring of the pain that threatened to break his bones and rip his skin open for blood to flow out of.

This was the time for escape before anyone else caught him.

_'Almost there...'_

Someone is coming, he can hear the sound of boots stepping on gravel as they made their way around the transporting machine to the back where no sooner the cloth is moved aside.

The scent of a Man who fancied himself as a Beast.

* * *

Orville circled the truck to see Victor holding the tape up as he peered in for whatever was inside, his cold dark steel gray eyes locked on whatever they've secured.

"What is it?" he asked out loud.

The answer comes to the small soldier. Victor—_motherfucking_—Creed is suddenly knocked back by a powerful force that slammed into his chest that sent them both flying a few feet away and crashing harshly against the sharp gravel floor that was sure to leave long ugly scars for the doctor having to pick out minerals from Mr. Creed's back.

Out of reflex, Orville raised his rifle and prepares to blindly fire but the small soldier doesn't find the chance to pull the trigger because he's knocked down roughly by Logan who run after his brother. Everyone can hear Logan shouting his brother's name is concern and alarm.

The men are running over from their places and after Logan to help, Hillard in the lead of the small troupe.

"What's happening?" Hillard shouts as he rushed by the downed Orville that quickly recovered himself from the ground, his rifle up as he follows after Logan.

Victor is back on his feet, his back ripped and bloody but the big man isn't slowed down by such a thing, he's up and facing whatever has knocked him down.

"_What's happening_!" Hillard demands.

Logan reaches his brother's side and _growls_ at the attacker, his body crouched and his legs spread in the form ready to pounce. It was like watching a rabid dog snarling at an unwelcome stranger.

The attacker causing such commotion; a man. A leather-masked man dressed in ragged, torn dark clothes that barely covered much of his skin and all can see four gruesome-looking scars that ran down the man's chest from what they can guess was caused by a large animal. Chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, broken off like the man forced them to break. His skin raw and bleeding from the force and his hands open and body almost crouched in the form of defense.

"Who are you, bub?" Logan growls, glaring at the enemy with such ferocity. "Fuckin' answer me!"

A low growl came to everyone's ears, and even though the brothers are looking animalistic at the moment, the sound was not coming from either of them. Peering in the black open holes of the leather mask that hid the man's identity, golden eyes glittered through the darkness and all the men felt their souls turn to ice from the unholy image.

"My God..." Richard let out a shaky breath, the rifle in his hands trembling.

A shot rang out, followed by more panicked shots. The man stumbled back from the multiple bullets until he crumbled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

"Hold fire!" Hillard commanded, grabbing his men to cease their random firing. "HOLD FIRE, I SAID!"

There was a moment of silence, men breathing heavily as their hearts raced from the frightening excitement. Hillard looked back to platoon and their vehicle.

"Was there anything else?" Hillard looked back to Victor.

"No," the Canadian answers, still looking at the fallen man.

The Welshman looks back to the corpse and nods someone to check over it. And Logan is all to eager to check it out himself, without any words the burly man makes his way to the fallen man and pulls out a knife and digs it carve away the leather that obscured his face.

"Unbelievable..." Matthew mutters under his breath as he watches Logan work. "Did we attack the right one?"

"Not sure anymore." Richard shakes his head as he pulls off his helmet and ruffles back his sweaty hair.

"Captain?" Orville turns to his quiet superior. "Something the matter?"

"Something is bothering me," Hillard says, looking back between the platoon and leather-masked man.

"Pray tell," Victor looked over his shoulder with sarcasm dripping in his tone. "what is that?"

"Why are they risking themselves on open fields," Hillard gestured over to Logan's place, the man pausing to hear out his captain. "over one prisoner?"

No one answered him.

"I can tell ya one thing, bub," Logan continues back to cutting open the mask. "it don't matter much anymore—"

He lets out a strangled choke from the vice-like pressure building around his thick muscled neck, his face becoming red and soon purple from the lack of air he is deprived of. His bulging dark gray-blue eyes looking down and follows the strong hand closed around his throat to find golden eyes glaring into his own—

He's yanked away from the painful grip, gasping and gulping in deep breaths of air as he's dragged away to safety. Shots are fired once again and looks up in time to see the once thought dead man fleeing the scene.

"Just what the _BLOODY FUCK_ happened?" someone demanded.

Hillard appeared and kneels before Logan, eying the bruised neck.

"You were saying?" Hillard said, his eyes looking to where the man fled.

Logan didn't say anymore.


	2. Have you ever seen the Rain?

**A/N:** How goes the first chapter my darlings? I know it's new but I think this approach is much better than the original **(teleporting in AU via crazy storm)** and it has more detail and realistic story about what's happening around our two _loveable_ feral brothers. I don't remember if we are on good terms with Poland during WW1 so I decided to keep it to a minimal by it being just a group of Americans, Canadians, and Britain's that sneak in to take out the enemies **(saw Inglorious Basterds so many times!)**. Yes! Gabriel made a subliminal appearance and yeah, the werewolf gig is on. Onto the next chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Marvel's X-MEN or Universal Studios Van Helsing characters, just the plot!

* * *

**1978, Present Day**

"_Someone told me long ago_," a certain annoying voice sang, alerting others of the coming presence they resented to having to share a bunk with. "_There's a calm before the storm, I know! It's been coming for some time~_"

"Please tell me we have duct tape somewhere around here..." came a small plea.

"Someone should be smart enough to actually bring in any at all."

"_I wanna know~_!_ Have you eveeerr seeeen the rain~_?"

"We're all together if something accidentally happens to him, right?"

"Totally with you on this, hands down."

"Hey~" the Creedance fanatic magically appears within the small huddle of conspirators. "Do I sense a mutiny within the ranks?"

"Shut up, Wade."

Wade Wilson only grins at his wonderful teammates before popping a breakfast bread full of jelly into his mouth from Fred J. Dukes plate, the giant muscled blond wording a small complaint that went unnoticed by the brunet swordsman. John Wraith and Chris Bradley returning to their breakfast, their assault against a possible incident to cause Wade's disappearance long forgotten.

"I'm at the end of it, Jimmy,"

James paused from reading the bold headlines of the latest kidnappings happening in New York that could possibly connected to the missing people up in Europe. Victor is perched on the stairs leading out of the men's Team X base, tracing the shape of his dirty long-ass nails and his eyes no longer holding the fascination they did once long ago when they were both little children, just a small hint of nostalgia.

"Come 'gain?" James mumbled, looking back at his now empty hands and his eyes trailed after Wade that happened to hold the exact same paper. The damn brat is laughing about how silly Marmaduke is.

"I mean it Jimmy, business is slowing down and I don't like being locked up for so long."

"You really gonna bitch to me, Victor?" James rolled his head to meet his brother's face.

"Watch it, little brother," the older feral smirks down at his sibling.

"Gentlemen!"

Everyone is on their feet, facing Colonel William Stryker as he entered the barracks with the ass-kisser David North aka Agent Zero following behind the man's heels like the little lapdog everyone knows he is. Stryker salutes to the small group of mutants he'd spent so long recruiting to make the greatest military team they have. Everyone eyed the file tucked under Stryker's arm before it's flopped down on the island of the small kitchen, the men gathering around to see whatever special assignment is given to them.

"Prisoner Transportation?" Wraith looked up to the Colonel, giving the older man a you-gotta-be-fucking-with-us look.

"A month and a half ago the Carabinieri of Rome incarcerated a man for multiple violent murders that spread through out the Europe section." Stryker produces black and white photos that made some of the men feel like they were going to lose their breakfast."

Bodies torn to shreds to the point they were barely recognized, blood splattered in various directions over furniture or abandoned street corners, faces of the victims that still had their faces on twisted to agony and/or terror. James turned his eyes away, this was nothing new to him, he'd seen faces like that all the time... the problem was the person who was able to do such a thing was standing right next to him.

That is unless Victor had the extra ability he failed to mention so many years ago that enabled him to teleport to far distant countries. There was a look in some of the team's eyes that they were thinking the same thing, because there was no one better than the macabre king himself.

"Say, do you guys have an extra brother we don't know about?" Wade asked the two feral brothers. "Because he really does take after his big brothers."

"_Quiet_." Stryker ordered Wade and thankfully pulled away the pictures. "As you have heard in the newspaper, there have been kidnappings from New York and Europe."

"You saying the guy's involved?" Bradley spoke up.

"He could be." Stryker nodded and pulled up a two month old newspaper article. " Or he couldn't be. There was a decrease in kidnappings when the murder spree was on the rise."

"So he's like Batman!" Wade grins, picking up the gory photos and flicking through them, totally fascinated by the blood and open intestines. "A very intense, dark Batman vigilante."

**_Slap!_**

"Oww...!" the mercenary whines from the slap of a folded newspaper, Stryker returns hi attention to the rest of the team.

"Victor, James," the two brothers face the Colonel. "You've served under Captain Hillard when infiltrating Warsaw to recover whatever it is the Germans were transporting back to Germany, correct?"

There was a pregnant pause, the realization where this conversation was taking them dawning to the two brothers as their minds went back in time to recall what had happened that night in Warsaw, Poland.

"Wait, this prisoner that's being transported, you telling us that guy is the same one—"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm saying, Mr. Creed."

Victor and James shared a look.

"The Italians are handing the prisoner over to the Russians, the convoy will be going on ground since air transportation seems too risky for them."

"We're kidnapping a prisoner from the Russians?" Wraith clarified, looking dumbstruck from the idea. "What makes you so sure we won't get caught?"

"It's simple Mr. Wraith," Stryker flips the profolio closed before returning his eyes on the man. "Just don't get caught."

There is the deafening silence coming over the two brothers, even after Stryker and Zero's departure and the men hesitating to ask questions** (Wade wanted to open his mouth but Dukes easily pulled him away) **but instead took off to deal with their own devices in preparation of the upcoming mission.

Victor turned to his younger brother, both of them speaking with on their eyes. They've faced a lot of things, took care of each other ever since that night in the Howlett estate that changed their lives forever, spent their years in every war that came at every few decades, losing themselves in the battlefield for causes that began to mean little to the two immortals.

"You up for it, Jimmy?"

The young feral only blew out a puff of smoke from his cigar in reply.

* * *

**3 Days Later**

**Cherkasy Oblast, Ukraine**

As the reports proved true, a convoy of three military trucks, five jeeps, and one metal enforced truck pulled the stops at Chyhyryn. Something which worked perfectly well for them, Chyhyryn was more of a wooded area with lots of cover and a bit isolated in case everything blew up on them. But perfect.

Perfect place to make a quick extract and get away.

_**"Target locked on, sir."**_ Bradley's voice in each member of Team X's earpieces.

**_"Zero, if you please,"_** Stryker's voice came through.

The marksman quickly and efficiently snipes out the watchful guards that paroled the perimeter they had set up, one man falling to the ground with a bullet through his call and the other following before he could cry out in warning.

_**"Wraith! You're up."**_

_**"Copy that, sir."**_ Wraith replied.

Not a moment too soon, the teleporter appeared and disappeared at random, leaving behind corpses quietly as they bleed away with their throats slit open, rendering them silent. No alarm raised, the soldiers camping out remained oblivious of the happenings with their comrades that stood guard over the metal truck.

**_"Duke, get to work."_**

**_"Yes, sir."_**

**_"Victor, James, Wade, keep an eye out."_**

**_"Aww, what? No way!" Wade whines._**

**_"Oh, c'mon!"_**

**_"Easy, Victor."_**

Dukes is down there, pulling on his special gloves and giving them a good shake before he grabs a hold of the back and begins to pull the whole heavy trucks backwards, slowly and silently so not to alert the others. Once closer to the team, Duke stops pulling the truck and signals Team X to join up.

Everyone gathers with Bradley heading to the front of the truck's driving seat, Stryker along with Zero following to join the little technopath. Meanwhile, Duke opens the back of the truck with ease before he climbs aboard, Victor, James, Wade, and Wraith following behind to be greeted by a pair of glaring golden wolf eyes.

"Whoa..." Wraith murmurs under his breath, hesitant to be in the same room with the heavily restrained prisoner.

"Hey," Victor greets casually, coming close before he kneels in front of the iron-masked man. "You probably don't remember me, but I remember you pretty well. Can't thank ya enough on how ya left me with so many rocks dug up in my back, took my little brother_ hours_ to take out too."

A low wolfish growl **(I can only tell you that it sounds like one of those wolf sound effects you hear in movies)** is Victor's only greeting, the golden iris' shining brightly for but a brief moment.

"Oh yeah, Jimmy says thanks for almost chokin' him." Victor nods to his brother.

James looked on at the beastly man, for despite after so much time since the first initial_ meeting_, the man appeared the same. Clothes torn and tattered, barely hiding his scarred torso and naked legs and his face obscured. The man's smell worried James and he knew that if Victor was honest with himself, the man was just as concerned.

The smell of something big and mean in their very presence, something Victor was vying for himself as time went by.

The sound of alarmed men broke everyone out of their focus on the prisoner, followed by gunshots and jeeps being revved up. The metal truck they hid themselves away comes to life and hits the gas, the sound of the jeeps being slowly drown up at the gap of distance between the truck and the soldiers. Trust Bradley to take care of the transportation those Italians depended on.

Now they just had to make it to the drop off and fly their way back to base. Something of which James isn't looking forward to.


End file.
